


Balance

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-07-30
Updated: 2000-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-10 07:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Welsh observes a not so normal conversation between Fraser and Kowalski





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

"Ray...I'm afraid I must insist...

Due South: Alliance

By: Winston

Winthru@kconline.com

 

 

BALANCE

 

 

 

"Ray...I'm afraid I must insist....If you do not talk to the Leftenant about this, I will."

//Oh boy...this ought ta be good.//

Lieutenant Harding Welsh had just been blessed with a golden opportunity. If he played his cards right, he could gain an insight into one of life's little mysteries...How could two odd balls like the Mountie and that crazy haired Kowalski, manage to attain such an impressive work record...and friendship and yet keep from killing each other in the process? If he held very still and remained very quiet he may just learn a little something about this crazy combo. 

It had been a rough week for the 27th. It was the middle of the summer vacation season and they had been running on a skeleton crew. The Lieutenant himself had spent more overtime on the job this week than he had in the last several years. And there was nothing like a good hot shower in the middle of the day to revive tired muscles and tired brain cells. 

Several of the men had pulled double shifts to help cover and between that and the continuing stakeout to try and grab Marshall, everyone was running low on energy...Well almost everyone.

"Do _not_ even go there Fraser." Ray Kowalski came bouncing into the locker room, his boundless energy seemingly untouched by the rigors of the week. "You say anything ta that _ole bear_ and he's gonna try and pull me off that stake-out. And _that ain't_ gonna happen."

As he spoke, the thin blond shucked out of his jacket and shoulder holster. Straddling the bench he sat down and bent to untie his old, heavy-soled, work boots.

"What the old fart don't know ain't gonna hurt him."

"He's not the one in danger of being hurt, Ray." Fraser instantly began to straighten his friend's carelessly discarded equipment. "Must I remind you Ray, that the reason you are in the process of taking a shower in the middle of the day is because you _fell_ into a dumpster?" 

"I've fallen into plenty of dumpsters, my little Mountie friend.... _Especially_ since I partnered up with you. _And_ if you tell Welsh...and he tries ta pull me off that stake-out...he'll be spittin' teeth for a week...and it will be all _your_ fault!"

 

// Spittin' teeth for a week huh?....Cheeky little bastard ain't he?//

The big man couldn't help but smile. He knew the truth. Despite the near constant bickering, he and Ray Kowalski had a good working relationship...one that more than just approached a solid friendship. And Ray was a damn good cop as well. Hell the little shit had pulled three double shifts this week with never a serious complaint. The Lieutenant had learned one thing early on. Unlike some of the guys in the squad, who tried hard to see just how little they could do and not get fired, Ray was different. You had to keep your eye on him to make sure that he wasn't running himself into the ground trying to do to much. 

Finished with his shoes Ray stood up with his usual speed and took four big staggering steps backwards, landing hard on his butt at the very end of the bench. Fraser had quickly stepped forward and his handhold on Ray's tee-shirt was the only thing that kept his friend, who was now laughing like an idiot, from falling over backwards off the bench. 

 

//Shit...What's goin' on here? If that pup's been drinkin' on the job!!!...//

From his hiding place in the shower at the far end...the only one with a small curtained dressing area...Lieutenant Welsh tried to regain his breath. He had almost given himself away by acting on the instinct of rushing to break Ray's fall. Thank God for the Mountie's lightening reflexes.

 

"This is _hardly_ a laughing matter, Ray." From his hiding place Harding could see the concern on the Constable's face and the shaking shoulders of the still giggling blond. "In our time of association I have only known of you falling into _one_ dumpster and that was because you had leaned in too far... _not_ because you straightened up and turned around too fast. My God Ray, you toppled backward _right_ into that thing. You could have split that hard head of yours wide open!" 

"Geeze Frase...take a chill pill will ya." The slender Detective grabbed Fraser's offered hand and pulled himself to his feet. "No harm was done...well...except ta the clothes. Ta be honest buddy...This is a gas. I feel fine...I ain't sick or nothin'. It's kinda like a really cheap drunk or somethin'...I crawled inta bed last night, and the damn thing started spinnin'. Haven't had that happen in years ...Go figure."

"You may not feel sick now my friend, but fluid in the ear is a clear indication that if you aren't careful, you will be. It is the body's reaction to an infection or an injury, and since you have not injured your head recently you are probably developing an inner ear infection." 

As Ray continued to peel out of his clothes the Mountie snatched them from his hands, almost angrily and placed them neatly on the bench. 

"Trust me Ray. An inner ear infection is nothing to take lightly. It has already affected your equilibrium and will eventually lead to headaches and nausea as well. Once it has a good foothold it can be very hard to shake. Your own famous Astronaut, John Glenn, was almost totally disabled for months because of an inner ear infection." As Ray slipped out of his final layer of clothes and stepped into the shower, his friend dutifully turned his back and continued. "I am _not_ going to stand idly by and watch you hurt yourself because of your _dogged_ determination to apprehend Marshall.... _And_ if you do not keep at least _one_ hand on the wall of that shower at _all_ times I will come in there myself, and then you will have _me_ to deal with."

 

//Wrong thing to say there Constable//

Welsh had to bite hard on his bottom lip as Ray stuck his head out of the shower and gave his blushing friend a wicked little wink.

 

"Oooh....Is that some kind of kinky Canadian type come-on thingy their Buddy?... 'Cause if it is you are gonna seriously damage your shining reputation with the female population of the greater Chicago area." 

Ray gave a short barking laugh and pulled his head back inside the shower. "And anyway...How can a guy take a real, lather it up...rub it off shower, with only one hand? Sorry Frase...can't be done." 

"Now you are just being ridiculous, Ray...and I will only say one more thing on the subject of the shower....Trust me here...Your head?... Shower wall?...Not a good mix."

"Ah" 

 

// My God...As Turnball would say... 'these two are a hoot'.//

Welsh settled himself back on the small bench in the little dressing room and cautiously toed the curtain open just a little more.

He watched in amusement as Fraser bustled about like a mother hen. He first went through all of Ray's pockets carefully arranging the contents on the bench. On several occasions he would stop; solemnly study whatever strange little tidbit his partner had pocketed, shake his head in wonder and then gently find it a place on the bench. Ray was notorious for pack-rattin' his pockets full of odd junk. At times he sounded like a walking percussion section, replete with various musical clanks and jingles. Harding had to smile at himself when he realized he was straining to try and see just what all was there...It was probably something better left unknown.

Once all the pockets were empty, and all of the little treasures were arranged on the bench, Fraser picked up Ray's jeans. He zipped up the zipper, buttoned the top and taking a leg in each hand tied them together. The Mountie then took the rest of his partner's dirty clothes and stuffed them into the jeans and pulled the belt tight around the top. 

Harding had to bite back his laughter. He couldn't hear what the Mountie was saying, but through the whole process he was mumbling under his breath and shooting angry little glances towards the shower stall that held the source of his aggravation. 

This whole thing was going to be pretty interesting. It seemed that one way or another the Mountie always managed to get his way, but Ray had seemed pretty adamant about sticking to the stakeout. Of course with what he now knew about Ray's balance problem, the Lieutenant would allow no debate, but the Mountie didn't have to know that yet. It would be interesting to see how the 'partners' worked this out. 

Fraser had gathered a change of clothes from Ray's locker and had just gotten them neatly folded when a potential hazard presented itself.

Diefenbaker.

Welsh held his breath.

 

 

The wolf trotted happily over to his human and after giving his friend a hopeful look voiced what was obviously a question.

"No Diefenbaker...I don't care _what_ Ray promised you, we are _not_ having pizza tonight. It is becoming painfully obvious to me that the primary goal for both you _and_ my partner is to bring me grief." The wolf dropped his tail and shot a disgusted look at his snitty sounding human. "You are both _bound_ and determined to destroy your health. You with junk food, and Ray with...well... junk food and this _ridiculous_ attempt to apprehend a man as dangerous as Marshall while _flailing_ about with the blind staggers."

"Frase...Are you talkin' ta the wolf in public again?"

 

//Ah shit!!..He's comin' this way.//

Welsh tensed as Dief strolled over towards the curtain and froze. The two made momentary eye contact before the wolf looked back over his shoulder towards the Mountie. When the wolf again turned to face him, the Lieutenant was amazed at the almost evil little sneer that curled the wolf's lips. Later, Harding was never really sure if he was just seeing things or not, but it almost appeared that the wolf gave one more quick glance at Fraser before winking at the Lieutenant and strolling casually back out of the room. 

He somehow seemed to remember something about a wolf making you pay...and pay...and pay.

He would have to try and remember to ask Kowalski about it sometime.

 

"And what was that you were saying about the blind staggers?....Gee....I didn't think a straight laced kind a guy like you would know about the blind staggers." 

A skinny arm slithered out from behind the shower curtain and snatched one of the towels that Fraser had placed close by. A moment later the blond shoved the curtain aside and stepped out, the towel wound tightly around his skinny hips.

"Blind staggers huh?...Is that anything like... 'buttin' the banks'..., or uh... 'hittin' the high spots'?" 

Ray grabbed another towel and shook it out to use on his hair.

"No Ray. It is not. 'Buttin' the banks', and 'hittin the high spots' are simply the by-products _of_ the blind staggers. And I would _highly_ advise against you trying to dry your hair in your normal way."

Before the Mountie could complete his thoughts, Ray bent over at the waist gave his hair a vigorous rub with the towel and then shook his head like a dog after its bath. It was only when he had straightened up and began to stumble back into the shower that his friend's words gained any meaning. 

Again it was the Mountie's lightening fast reflexes that saved the day. Fraser cleared the bench and had his partner by the shoulders in one fluid motion.

"Whoa....damn!...That was a close one, huh, Buddy?" The once again giggling blond seemed totally oblivious to the fear reflected in his friend's eyes quickly changing to anger. "Kinda like the ole one Tequila, two Tequila, three Tequila, floor...only cheaper, and ya don't wake up with hairy teeth."

"Ray Kowalski!....I swear by the honor of the Queen, I am going to...."

Before anymore could be said, Ray's hand suddenly flew to his mouth. His wide blue eyes were quickly calculating the travel time to the nearest toilet. Judging the distance to be just a little too great the blond turned back towards the shower.

"Oh my God, Ray. Not in the shower." 

 

//Crazy little shit. The kid really is too skinny...hell he ain't nothin' but bony joints and angles.// 

Welsh watched with concern as Ray leaned heavily against the shower. Despite his recent anger the Constable remained close behind his friend, a strong hand gently resting on one of his partner's bony shoulders. 

In a funny little way the Lieutenant found himself incredibly proud of these two screwballs.

The little scene he had just witnessed was just a small reflection of the larger dynamics of the partnership. Sure the two idiots bickered about almost everything, but they never let that little pettiness get in the way of the important fact. They were best friends, and that was the truth that always rose to the top.

Some people had a hard time understanding how two men, so seemingly different, could have ever developed such a solid friendship but for Harding it was easy to figure. Although the outside packaging was as different as night and day, the contents were amazingly similar.

The partners shared an amazingly tenacious commitment to the ideals of justice and honor and although their methods couldn't have been any different, the courageous determination to uphold those ideals ran equally strong in both.

The Lieutenant couldn't withhold a smile at the other quality that the friends shared.

Both men hid an almost amusingly sweet shyness; one behind a uniform and impeccable politeness and the other behind a brash bravado that bordered on the obnoxious. But in both cases, if they considered it safe, they would occasionally drop their defenses and allow those they trusted a glimpse.

Damn straight.

He was proud of them. They were good men.

 

"False alarm?" Fraser dropped his hand and gently rubbed his partner's back as the tension seemed to finally drain from the thin form. 

Ray nodded his head slowly and turned to face his friend, a sheepish smile gracing his pale face.

"Yah...Sorry about that Buddy." Fraser kept one hand on Ray's arm until he had settled himself on the bench. "That was kinda close...and I ain't thrilled with the idea of re-hashing an egg McMuffin this close ta lunch...If ya know what I mean."

"Oh...so you actually ate some _breakfast_ for a change?" Now that the crisis was over the Mountie's anger was quickly returning. "Don't tell me you have suddenly developed a concern for your health and well being...I find that truly remarkable, Ray. I mean..what's a little thing like a balanced breakfast to a man who seems to feel that it is perfectly alright to go charging around Chicago in such an obviously sad state of health?"

 

//Oooh...Mad Mountie.//

The Lieutenant leaned forward with interest. As far as he could remember he had never seen Fraser this angry before. Sure he had seen him upset, and even depressed on occasion, but really angry? Harding had always felt that the skinny blond had the ability to piss off the Pope, but Constable Benton Fraser? As Ray, himself would say...huh?...Go figure.

Well?...That wasn't right either...It did figure. 

Ray Kowalski was his partner, and his best friend, and in his own, stiff kind of way, Fraser probably loved him like a brother. To see someone you care for, that much, put so little value on their own well being could get anyone riled...Even the stoic Mountie.

Another point of interest for the Lieutenant was Ray's surprising reaction to this verbal assault.

Silence.

The Lieutenant puzzled over that issue for only a moment. Suddenly his craggy face broke into a smile.

The kid knew it!!!!

By God!! Ray understood why the Mountie was so angry.

Well...Good on ya Constable. You, of all people, have finally convinced the little shit that someone cares. 

 

Fraser would have probably been able to continue his tirade for several more minutes, but his partner's silence, and the sad droop of his shoulders as he slowly dressed, cooled the Mountie's anger like nothing else could.

Fraser sucked in a big calming breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He watched his friend for another minute and then gave his head a funny little shake.

"I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't mean to lose my temper so completely."

Ray slowly raised his head to give his friend a small, forgiving smile.

"So'kay, Buddy...I was just bein' stupid.."

"No Ray...You are not stupid." The Mountie slowly rubbed his thumb across his eyebrow. "A bit over-focused, and perhaps a bit unwise...but not stupid. And although I _do_ understand your desire to complete the stakeout, I'm afraid that I must insist. If you do not tell the Leftenant?....I will." 

The Mountie watched the various emotions that crossed his friend's, still pale, features. He understood that Ray didn't want to argue about this, but he wasn't happy with it either. Fraser turned on the bench to fully face his partner and placing a gentle hand on his thin arm gave it a squeeze.

"Ray, you are my partner. I can not, in good conscience, allow you to endanger yourself in this way. If anything were to happen to you, _I_ would feel responsible. Not only for the fact that Chicago would be deprived of a fine police officer, but more importantly, that I would be deprived of the continuing company of my best friend." 

The blond showed a quick shy smile before he dropped his head and idly messed with his shoelaces. At last the blue eyes raised again. 

"How 'bout a compromise...You know?...Canada, and the United States do it all the time...so like?...How 'bout it?"

The Mountie shook his head, a bemused smile curving his lips.

"And just what kind of a compromise do you have in mind?"

"We do the stakeout tonight...you know...and I'm real careful...and you'll be right there with me...so's you can keep me out a trouble." Much of the Detective's former animation returned as he continued. "And then first thing in the morning...I mean first thing...bam...I'll get me an appointment somewhere and get somethin' to knock this stuff outta my ear. There ain't no need for Welsh ta know anything about it...Right?...Whatta ya think?"

Fraser dropped his head in thought. He should have known this wasn't going to be easy. At last he again turned to his friend.

"How about this? We ask the Leftenant to change us to the early shift of the stakeout tonight...we don't have to tell him why. That will put us out of there at 9:00. The Med-Stat Clinic doesn't close until 10:00. You can get an examination and some medicine. If by tomorrow night you are showing a _marked_ improvement, I will not say anything to the Leftenant....But I will warn you right now, my friend. If you have shown no improvement or if between now and then I feel that you or your health is at a point of serious risk? I _will_ pull the plug on the entire affair. Agreed?"

Ray nodded his head eagerly and graced his partner with a too rarely seen full-blown smile. He had just reached down to finish tying his shoes when he froze in place. Fraser instantly noticed the tension.

"Ray? What's wrong?...Are you going to be sick?"

The blond head slowly raised...The Mountie could read the panic in his friend's blue eyes.

"The Med-Stat Clinic !?"

 

//So that's how it works.//

The Lieutenant was only slightly disappointed. This partnership seemed to work just as every other true partnership did. Joking, bickering over the small stuff, occasional anger, and a lot of compromise. Of course you had to also throw in understanding, forgiveness...and yes even...love. 

The thing that didn't disappoint the big man was the understanding that in life, true partnerships were rare and wonderful things. Sure, being a Lieutenant in the Chicago Police Department, he dealt with partners and partnerships all the time, but this kind of a match happened only once in a great while. It was a lot like marriages. There were a lot of them out there, but the truly great ones were few, and far between. 

Harding Welsh had been blessed too have experienced such a partnership himself and the memory of that friendship would never fade. The big man suddenly realized that he had been blessed again. This time with the honor of being a witness to the special relationship that would mark the lives of these two men forever. 

 

 

"Not the Med-Stat!!!"

"The Med-Stat is a fine facility, Ray."

" _Your_ words Fraser...That lady doctor's got the hots for you big time...and anyway...You ain't never sick... _I'm_ the one you're always draggin' in there."

"Are you sure your hesitation doesn't have something to do with the fact that the last time we were there you ...well...shall we say...came out feeling worse than when you went in?" The Mountie tried hard to hide his smile. "Dr. Michaels was _not_ aware of your reaction to needles, Ray."

"I _ain't_ scared of needles...Well...not the regular ones...but them damn big things...you know...the ones with the _handles_ on 'em...Those things give me the willies...like something' out of those Frankenstein movies or somethin'." Even the memory of it caused a shudder to ripple through Ray's bony frame. "I don't know _why_ the hell she had ta use that big a needle to numb an area that only needed _four_ little stitches anyway."

"Oh she didn't Ray." Now the Constable was really struggling to maintain a straight face. "I just asked her to show it to you. Actually the one that she used on you was _much_ smaller."

Ray's blue eyes were wide with shock.

"Just _what_ the hell are you saying here, Fraser?" Giving his friend no time to replay, Ray rushed on. "Are you tellin' me that while I'm layin' there ...my bare butt in the air... _your_ makin' deals with some hotty behind my back?... _Why_ would you do that Fraser?...That ain't buddies...And what kind of a doctor would do somethin' like that?...she's s'pose ta be a _professional_ ain't she?...ya know...that hypocritical oath thingy?"

"Ray, Ray, Ray....I think you might be overstating the facts." 

Having successfully arranged his game face Fraser continued. 

"In the first place Ray, the injury was to the back of your thigh. Lying on your stomach was the only _logical_ position...therefore, no matter what I did; it would have been behind your back. Secondly your butt was _not_ bare. Not only did you still have your boxers on, but Melinda...huh...Dr. Michaels, had also been kind enough to cover that portion of your anatomy with a sheet. Thirdly, aforementioned doctor was _not_ aware of your sensitivity to that type of needle and only agreed to show it to you on the promise of a shared cup of coffee with a certain Constable of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who at this time will remained unnamed. And finally Ray, it is the Hippocratic oath...not hypocritical oath." 

Ray's angular face reflected his amazement. It wasn't until Fraser reached over and gently pushed his friend's mouth shut that he was able to react at all. 

"I _don't_ believe it!..I _do not_ believe what I am hearing. You did that on _purpose_? Geesh!...Fraser...I almost lost my supper over that little deal." Truth be known; Ray's shock was beginning to turn to pride. To think that his straight laced, by the book, oh so polite partner would stoop to his own ornery level, could only be a reflection of the influence he was having on the Mountie. 

"Well, technically, Ray, it would have been your lunch. And I _do_ apologize. I have been meaning to; as you would say, 'come clean' on this for quite some time and since we do, once again, require the services of the Med-Stat Clinic, now would seem to be the appropriate time." Fraser slowly rubbed his thumb along his brow. "You see Ray...I didn't fail to notice that when you had to get that cortisone injection in your elbow..."

"Oh...You mean the elbow that I banged-up jumping a _motorcycle_ through a window....and then 

re-injured jumping through a _skylight_...Is _that_ the elbow your talkin' about there Buddy?" 

"Uh...Yes Ray. That elbow...and believe me when I say that I more than appreciate the valiant efforts that you made on my behalf...and...well...anyway...I couldn't help but notice your reaction to _that_ needle...and...oh dear....That I then turned around and used that knowledge in such a manner is truly appalling...and I do most humbly apologize."

Although Ray knew that Fraser's apology was genuine, he could still see the amused twinkle in his friend's eyes. Once again he felt that funny little feeling of pride. For the last two years Ray had been telling his partner that he had to learn to loosen up and have some fun, and if some of it came at his expense, that was a small price to pay to get to see that twinkle. 

"Right...Okay...Forgiven." Fraser finally breathed a small sigh of relief as he saw a slight smile on his friend's face. "But I gotta ask ya why?...I mean, even an evil, devious, under-handed character like you would have ta have a pretty good reason for such a low down dirty deed."

"As a matter of fact I do...and it comes with some relief to know, that it is an excuse that I feel you will totally understand...and possibly even appreciate." Fraser finally allowed his smile to really show. "I _love_ to drive the GTO...and although you have been _more_ than generous with the lessons, we seldom have the proper time...And it is only when you are feeling...well...shall we say, under the weather, that time is really no longer a factor. And then of course I _did_ get to spend a delightful evening with Melinda." 

 

//Well...I'll be damned.!//

Lieutenant Welsh smiled in amazement. The Mountie was human after all. In the short time that he had been listening he had not only seen Fraser truly angry...but had also discovered his well hidden, but surprisingly devious sense of humor. And to think that he had successfully gotten one over on Kowalski made it even better. 

Harding couldn't think of another man on the planet who could have pulled that on the volatile blond and not have received a kick in the head for his efforts. It was just one more clear indication of the bond that existed between the two men. 

His men.

The Lieutenant smiled with pride.

 

"Benton Buddy...You are full of surprises ain't ya?" As Ray settled his shoulder holster back into place he glanced at his watch. "Come on...Let's blow this pop stand....The sandwich wagon should be down stairs...We can grab a couple a sandwiches and then knock out a report or two before it's time for the stakeout. Ya really think Welsh will let us switch to the early shift?"

"We can certainly ask."

Fraser carefully shadowed his still slightly off balanced partner as they left the locker room. 

 

EPILOUGE:

 

It was just under forty-five minutes later when Lieutenant Welsh hung up his phone and watched the two men enter his office.

"Uh...Hey boss...Me an Fraser got a favor ta ask." As he spoke the blond-headed Detective stepped up to the desk, flanked by the Mountie. "We was wonderin' if we could switch off with the other team, and take the early shift of that Marshall stakeout thingy?"

The big man leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms against his chest. It was going to be hard to pull this off and keep a straight face.

"Well Detective, it just so happens that I just got a call from the 1-7. They picked Marshall up an hour ago in a stolen car." The Lieutenant wasn't surprised to see the disappointment that momentarily flashed across Ray's face, but the kid was a good cop, and it was, after all, one more bad guy off the street. "So, as you can see there will be no stakeout tonight."

"Cool...Well then...I guess we'll just..."

"Oh no. I'm not finished with the two a you." The Lieutenant had to bite the inside of his lip at the meaningful glance the partners exchanged. "I have a few things that I wanna say, but first Detective.. ...Hand over your car keys."

"What?...My car keys?!!"

"That's what I said...And for God sakes Kowalski close your mouth...you're gonna be catchin' flies!" Ray's mouth snapped shut as he began digging for his keys. "Don't worry Detective, I may be nothin' but an _ole bear_ , but I ain't gonna keep 'em."

Ray's eyes narrowed with suspicion as he laid his keys in the Lieutenant's outstretched hand. Fraser stood by stoically only moving his eyes to follow the action.

"Now gentlemen, I have a couple of points to make here, so _bear_ with me." As he spoke the big man bent over and picking his gym bag off the floor placed it on his desk, a damp towel wound through the handles. It took every stitch of control that he had to keep a stern face, as he watched the expressions on the men before him. 

It was obvious that the partner's puzzlement was slowly turning towards understanding. Once again the friends exchanged a meaningful glance.

"Detective Kowalski?... The first thing I want understood is that I'm sorry that the 1-7 beat us to Marshall, but I would _hate_ ta be spittin' teeth for the next week. _And_ I don't wanna see your skinny ass in here until you have a doctor's slip assuring me that you will not be falling into anymore dumpsters because of the fluid in your ear." 

The big man was positive that those pale blue eyes couldn't get any wider.

"And Constable Fraser?...I am expecting you to see that your partner gets in to see Dr. Michaels as soon as possible." Welsh moved from behind his desk and stopping before the wide-eyed Mountie, dropped Ray's keys into his hand. "I _do_ know how you _love_ to drive that GTO."

The older man was almost through the door before he turned. 

"Oh..by the way...This old fart will see ya both in a few days." 

The partners had spun around to watch his exit. The picture he saw would remain in his mind...and his heart for a long time to come. Two men...one blond, and listing slightly to the left, one dark-haired, ramrod-straight, but with a firm grip on his partner's holster strap. 

Good men.

THE END 


End file.
